Spark - ARC by Anthea Sharp Page A

herself to keep smiling, though her insides churned. Touring with the Terabins was going to be a nightmare.
    The moderator thanked everyone and the crowd applauded. The instant Mr. Chon got up, Spark pushed back her chair and stood. She took a deep breath, but her relief was short-lived as Mr. Chon beckoned her and the Terabins to the front of the stage.
    “The press wants some pictures of our top gamers,” he said. Glancing at her, he shook his head. “Unfortunate that you’re not in uniform, Miss Jaxley.”
    “Maybe you should dock her pay,” Roc said. “Obviously she’s not taking this launch as seriously as she should.”
    “Yeah,” Cora said. “Are you sure you’ve got the right spokesperson for the FullD?”
    “Yes,” Mr. Chon said. “And all three of you are representing VirtuMax equally. Is that clear?”
    “Well, she—” Cora began.
    “Fine,” Spark said. “I’ll wear my costume from now on.”
    “Smile, everyone,” Mr. Chon said.
    “Could the gamers bunch together?” one of the reporters called.
    Spark edged closer to Roc.
    “Miss Jaxley in the middle, please,” another photographer said.
    “Come on, Fizzle,” Cora said, too softly for Mr. Chon to overhear.
    She snagged Spark’s arm, fingers too tight, and hauled her to stand sandwiched between them. Roc draped his arm over Spark’s shoulders and the two Terabins, big smiles on their faces, pressed close, squeezing her until she could barely breathe. Flashes went off, leaving starry afterimages on Spark’s retinas. She put on her best photo face, enduring until she couldn’t take it any more.
    Ducking backwards out of the Terabins’ false embrace, she turned to Mr. Chon.
    “I need to finish getting my things together,” she said.
    He nodded, frowning slightly. As she walked away, she could hear Roc say it was too bad she wasn’t a team player.
    Damn them. Her throat tight, Spark moved to the stairs at the end of the stage. She still had to get through the banquet room without revealing a hint of how disturbed she was that the Terabins were back in her life.
    Joe and Burt, ever the loyal guards, flanked Spark as she stepped down. Her fans surged toward her, and she felt the usual twinge of panic, as though one day she might be completely overwhelmed, trampled beneath hundreds of adoring feet.
    But not today.
    Spark headed for the exit, shaking hands and thanking people. It had taken a while for her to perfect the move where she stuck her hand out just in time to prevent an unwanted hug. Burt had helped her, after she’d been glommed on once too often by an overeager fan. Nothing like getting pressed into the pits of an excited guy who wanted to crush her life essence into his body. Or being clung to by a girl who didn’t want to let go so much that her long fingernails left scratches on Spark’s arms. So, no hugs.
    She did her best to meet her fans’ eyes, to look at every person, to put all of her thanks and appreciation into her smile. Still, the faces tended to blur—until one set of features came into sharp focus. Aran. His dark eyes met hers, and held.
    Without meaning to, she veered toward him.
    “Hey,” he said, giving her a half smile.
    “Hi.” She hadn’t expected to see him again, and her breath caught in her throat.
    Whatever their connection, it was real. The people around them faded into the background. Though her fans were probably going to gossip like crazy, it didn’t matter.
    Aran held out his hand, and she took it, his grip warm and firm.
    “Since you couldn’t make it to the beach,” he said, pressing something hard and oval into her palm, “I brought part of it to you.”
    She looked down, to see a pinkish stone. It was a small thing—and it meant more than she could say.
    “It’s an agate,” he said. “If you get it wet, it’s pretty.”
    “Thanks. For thinking of me.”
    She wished she could find other words. But there was only goodbye. She closed her hand around the stone; a bittersweet